Rebirth
by C. O. Rosette
Summary: It's over. They defeated all the beasts and they can finally live peacefully. But after a disturbing premonition, 9 and his fellow survivors find that a great danger is coming to them, one they can't take care of alone. Maybe survival isn't the only thing the scientist intended for them to do after he created them.
1. Chapter 1

Earth. But not earth. At least not the earth known a decade and a half previously. That earth is long dead. Though, there are still little remnants of old earth here and there. Actually, it's pretty clear among all the rubble and debris, as that is what it is, the rubble and debris. All that is left of the old world that humans have once inhabited has now succumbed to tiny, little, microscopic pieces of old, fragmented memories. After that you can probably guess what happened to the humans themselves. As a result of one of the humans' experiments gone rogue, all things remotely found to be living were terminated, meaning that not only the humans ended up meeting their untimely demise, but also all the animals and plants that have been known to have been "alive" at that point.

Of course not all life has diminished as an effect of this apocalyptic scene. For the humans, apparently very aware of their impending fatality, had one, final creation before they died. These creations, or stitchpunks, as were named by their creators, are the new creatures that currently reside within the walls of what is left of the humans' buildings and gardens.

The stitchpunks, created by one of the last scientists of his race, Julius Bergeron, are his very last attempt at repopulation of some sort of species on the planet just for the sake of preventing the overall percentage of species on it from becoming completely extinct. They are able to survive under the conditions of this new world. They need no plants or animal meat to fuel their systems nor do they need any oxygen in order to breathe. In fact, they don't really need food or any of the necessities that the previous beings that used to live on earth required to function. They are woven out of fine, burlap fabric that has a surface much tougher and invulnerable to puncturing than that of human skin. Their bones are strong, mechanical endoskeletons that allow them to move around freely and escape from danger if needed.

Really the only problem with survival that stitchpunks have (or had) to face are the actual other machines that were created by Bergeron prior to the destruction of mankind. See, Bergeron didn't die by hand (or claw) of his killer machines. No, he eventually succumbed to his imminent bereavement after sacrificing the last little bits of his soul to create the stitchpunks. This automatically means he was able to survive by outsmarting the machines or beasts. He knew that he would eventually die, which is what ultimately prompted him to divide his soul into nine little dolls he then deemed as "stitchpunks" in the first place. He knew that together, they would be able to defeat the four main remaining beasts and dawn a new era of organisms residing on earth. That explains why they are built with such endurance. But with every quality there are bound to be some flaws and in the end, they were shown to come with a few but tragic losses.

The stitchpunks do have one, fatal flaw, and that is their connection to the talisman. Although the talisman in itself can also be used as a strength, when activated by the fabrication machine, it was instead used as a device to suck out the souls of the defenseless stitchpunks. They did eventually manage to destroy all of the beasts and free the souls of the friends that were taken by them, but only at the cost of those friends who made up five of the nine of them there were in the beginning. The four that are left now reside behind the walls of an old mill, protected by any further danger, not that there's anything to really need protection from anymore.

They still mourn their dead friends in the end, though. Even if they are all finally at peace. They just can't help but wonder what it would be like if they were with them now. How would their lives be now that there are no beasts to cower from or prophecies to fulfill? If only they had a taste of that life.

* * *

Somewhere up above the darkened clouds, something stirs. A tiny but bright spark of light erupts from the air. But there is really no air in this place. This is what is sometimes known as oblivion. It is possibly nowhere but everywhere at the same time. It stretches out, it's light getting bigger and brighter as it spreads over the expanse of nothingness.

9 floats above the insane swarming of light, gliding through space without a care. His life is so very perfect. They defeated all the beasts, avenged their creator, freed their dead friends, and are now on their way to repopulating the earth. Everything is going according to plan with no disturbance to his peace at all.

But suddenly the light below his feet turns a threatening shade of lime green and sparks begin to stretch toward the startled stitchpunk, almost enveloping him in their electric vines. They surges, now flames, start to lick higher and higher until they reach his legs, not pulling him down but beckoning to him in an uncomfortably menacing way.

Though 9 finds this rather intriguing as the green flames aren't physically trying to eat him. Besides, he's seen much, much worse. Curious, down to inspect. He pushes through the bristles of green light to reveal a blur of some weirdly familiar figures and the same brown composure that is always presented to him in the waking world. Wait, the waking world? Does that mean he's asleep right now?

The blurs are getting clearer now. 9 sees that they are stitchpunks like him. Some of them he doesn't recognize, but most of them he does. He sees his deceased best friend 5 among the mix. "Hey! 5!" he tries to call out to him before he notices something weird happening to his friends. They're eroding away, little bits of them just disappearing until eventually they're all gone. 5 hears his voice and turns to look at him, but before 9 can see the glimmer of recognition in his eyes, he disappears too.

They're all gone now, even the unknown stitchpunks. 9 tries calling out again but is met with only his echoes. He starts to fall into nothingness again as it gets darker and darker all around.


	2. Chapter 2

9 wakes up with a start. He sits up in bed. That was a very weird dream. He can't remember exactly what was all about. It all seems so vague now. He sighs and pushes himself up from his makeshift "bed"- just two chopsticks they scavenged with a small, scrap cloth rolled between them, forming a hammock of some kind or another. It's been a long time since he, 3, 4, and 7 set the other five punks souls free. Not much has happened since then and 9 is glad for the rest and the fact that the twins and 7 are safe, but he just can't seem to shake the inevitable feeling that something really big is about to come.

The room is currently empty. A deathly silence shrouds it completely, giving it somewhat of an eyrie-feeling atmosphere. Not that this isn't the norm for this particular room, quite the opposite actually. This room, which also happens to be 9's sleeping place, has always seemed to have an odd, heavy sort of feel to it, accelerated only by 9's most recent, traumatizing, night terror. Nonetheless, he really likes this room, though it's really hard for him to explain exactly why. Something about the noiseless surrounding this place intrigues him. He can never really understand it himself no matter how hard he tries, searching his subconscious for a single glimmer of recognition as to what this psychiatric foil may turn out to be.

He finds himself pondering the very same question at the very moment. But suddenly, 9 realizes something. He has an extremely faint memory of 3 pointing out- in his own way, of course- that 9 seems to have picked up certain traits or habits of their recently late friends that he never seemed to notice up until then. He considers this in the present. Could this be why? He reasons that it just may be possible seeing as the old space he sleeps and spends all his time in for that matter did used to be 6's former sleeping area. Actually, come to think of it, 9 really does like this room...and he likes it a lot to put it fairly mildly. But the reason he likes it the most, he thinks to himself, well, there are a lot of reasons. It's quiet, it blocks out the cold air, and it still has all the cool, human objects that none of the remaining punks have gotten around to getting creative with yet.

But 9 reasons in his own, personal mind, that maybe it really was because this used to belong to 6. It does remind 9 a lot of him. Yes, now that he thinks about it more and more and more, it really seems to click in his brain that this is the reason he really, genuinely likes this room. It's dark, mysterious, and also quiet, just like 6 was. 9 decides this is a moment of enlightenment for him, a sudden epiphany, as one may put it. What other things may 9 obsess over that have something or another to do with his dead friends, 9 wonders as he leaves the room and walks down the "hall-" just a long, wooden board that stretches across the surface area of the little, makeshift shelter the four punks now live in. It doesn't even have real, actual walls aside from the one connecting each of the "rooms" together (though that may barely qualify as a wall as all it is is a small uprising that just so happens to be directly parallel to the running slab of wood that the punks all use as a regular hall since they really don't have anything all that much better to call an official hall for them).

Still deep in thought, 9 isn't exactly paying very much attention to where it could actually be that he is heading, and accidentally bumps into 7, who is walking in the direction that is opposite the one he is walking in, causing them to clumsily knock into each other and after, barrel off the side of the hallway that has been left open. Screaming blood-curdling screams, they fall very very far down the extremely steep hill upon which the punks' shelter is built. Both 7 and 9 are seriously regretting building it like that due to the suddenness of both their current situations. Well, it sure seemed like a good idea at the time, maybe even a great one if they just tweaked the floor plans a little...just a little...

They continue to bounce together down the ridiculously steep hill, getting literally tangled up in each other causing themselves to form a giant stitchpunk ball, one that only grows faster and faster as it rolls...and it doesn't look like it will be coming up to even a slightly slower rate anytime soon. But what both 7 as well as 9 don't realize is that while inside their weird, little, stitchpunk ball that is picking up more and more speed by the second, they seemed to be picking up more and more speed by the second while hurtling straight towards a small but also sharp and pointy rock that just so conveniently is sitting at the cliff-formation that is what will be eventually called the closest thing to the bottom of this weird little (or big, whichever is preferred) hill atop which the four remaining punks have built their makeshift shelter, to alliterate.

In the aftermath of the collision, 9 maybe had another epiphany. He can't really tell. During his time spent in a deadlock with 7, he thought about a lot of things. He thought about what else he kept close to him that related to one of their dead friends. He looks to see 7, still dazed and holding her head from the bashing it took. "7," he carefully starts.

7 looks at him, noticing the slight change of tone, "What?"

9 struggles to find words as he recalls the magnet he keeps that used to belong to 8, 1's staff, and of course, all of 5's leftover tools that 9 thought would be useful but never uses them for fear of them being broken forever, "I have to talk to you about something. It's about a dream I had last night."


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't know. It's just that it seems like if I just hold to their things a little longer, then they might suddenly become of some use," 9 tries hard to explain his slightly creepy hoarding problem.

"So what about these dreams?" 7 inquires. They both sit at the bottom of the hill they fell down prior to this conversation. They seem to have found a comfortable place to sit down within the confines of what appears to be an old, glasses case.

"Well, when I first started having them," 9 attempts to elaborate on the experiences he's had for about the past month. "I didn't really think much of them. I thought they were just dreams brought on by the traumatic stress of fighting the beasts. But then they just kept getting more and more frequent after that."

7 looks on at him, intrigued by what it could be causing 9's dreams, "Come to think of it, I think I may have had a few recurring dreams myself."

"The worst part is that it's always the same dream or variations of it. I'm beginning to wonder if they actually might possibly mean something. Does that sound insane to you?"

"Huh. Exactly how do they go?"

"I usually start out in a place I don't know. I can't see anything because it's all foggy, but suddenly the fog clears up and I'm actually in a very familiar place."

"Go on."

"I look around and all our old friends are there, and so is the scientist who created us. I try and say hi to them but they seem weirdly...serious about something. They tell me that it's not over, that there are still things needing to be taken care of. They said it's the remaining survivors' responsibility and that if we fail, then we'll be joining them real soon. What does that even mean?"

"My dreams are somewhat like that to but I chose to ignore them, thinking they were just dreams and nothing but, but now since you're having them too..."

"It's times like these where I'd go to 2 but now he's only in my dreams, and there it's almost like no one listens."

"...Maybe 3 or 4 would have some suggestions?"

"You think we should check with them?"

"It doesn't seem like we have much of a choice."

"Good point."

* * *

As a settlement for their own comfort and well-beings, 9 and 7 make their way back to the sanctuary in search of their other two surviving friends. 7 stands up from her place on the unsteady edge of the glasses case offers a hand to 9. After helping him up, they begin their trek back home. They both decide that climbing back up the hill is a bad idea. Not is it at the risk of falling back down this time with even more gruesome consequences, but the walk is just too steep for the exhausted stitchpunks. Fortunately, a different has presented itself over the time of getting to know the ways around their somewhat unfamiliar, new home. 3 and 4 showed them a secret entrance through an old pipeline leading specifically to their room. Assuming that they'll be their at the moment, 7 and 9 sneak around the back to where the entrance to the pipe is.

They reach the entrance. 9 stands back and lets 7 enter the pipe first, then climbs in after her. It's quite a long crawl until they finally see light at the end of the tunnel. The two figure 3 and 4 like to have a more solitary domain, even if it does seem like they're safe now. Nut not for long, 9 thinks to himself. 7 exits the small hole into 3 and 4's still pretty small hideout with 9 behind her. It's actually kind of a cozy room if you take the time to stop and look around.

There isn't very much light. It's actually quite dark. A blue orb throbs it's cerulean glow around the room almost like stars. It's just enough light to allow the twins to read the various scraps of words they find while scavenging. Some of the light hits pieces of curtains and blankets making abstract patterns on the walls. Those two sure do have a thing for creativity, 9 thinks, looking around. Where are they anyway?

"4! 3!" 7 cups her hands to her mouth and calls their names. "Where are you guys? Please come out. We need your help!"

"Maybe they're not in here," 9 says, walking in the direction of the door but still looking at 7 as he goes. Not looking where he is going, 9 doesn't notice the censor he stepped on activated a long scroll of disturbing scribblings until it falls to land right where his face can smack into it. Startled, he yelps and grabs the scroll, ripping it and sending it falling to the ground.

"What is it?" 7 asks, running up just as startled.

9 falls to the floor with a loud thud. The scroll lands on his head, covering his eyesight. Frantically, he grapples his mechanical fingers around the paper in a desperate and clumsy attempt to remove it. In the end it has to come to 7 walking over and snatching it off his head for him. Free at last, 9 desperately gulps for air. 7 looks at the scroll. At first glance, all it is is just a bunch of discombobulated words and scribbles. But if there's one thing 7 learned from 6, it's that what may seem like nonsense could really hold deep meaning. She studies the scroll carefully...and gasps. "What?" 9 asks, coming to look at the scroll as well. Then he is stricken with the same shock.

Scribbled in 6's old ink, right in the middle of the scroll, it reads, "WE WILL FAIL. THEY WILL BE BACK."


End file.
